


Correspondence

by orphan_account



Series: Enchanted Worlds [22]
Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ahiru sorts through the things retrieved from her uncle's mansion, and finds inspiration in one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Correspondence

Ahiru settled herself on the floor, atop a pillow with her back against the bed, before opening the trunk again. She already knew what was inside, but seeing the objects within hadn't lost any of its melancholy thrill after two days.

Most of the things in her uncle's mansion had been useless to her. She hadn't wanted any of his taxidermy collection or his many clocks and puppets or his furniture, so all of it was going to be auctioned off and she'd get the money deposited into her bank account. The house itself would be made suitable for living in and sold as well, and she would also get the money from that. It promised to be a fairly good windfall, all in all.

Amidst all the unwanted objects, however, something priceless had been found: a trunk containing things that had belonged to her mother once. Chrestomanci had called them irreplaceable treasures, and Ahiru agreed with that description. She'd keep them close and cherish them, let them be a connection to the mother she'd never known.

She took them all out again now for another inspection, save for the carefully folded clothes and a lone ballet costume at the bottom; those she left there, for she didn't feel like trying to refold them without help and it was getting to be too late at night for her to ask for assistance from people better at clothes folding than she was. After a moment's hesitation, she slipped the matching bracelets made of large golden beads onto her wrists and admired how they looked. It was doubtful she would ever wear them outside her room because of their sentimental value and because her wrists were smaller than even her mother's had been, but it was nice to put them on and pretend.

Next came the little drawstring bag of old charms, the silky fabric worn and faded with time and the string that held it closed a little frayed. Ahiru carefully pulled it open and emptied its contents onto the floor. She looked closely at each one, at the patterns, shapes, figures, and even words carved carefully into the surfaces of the flat pieces of metal, and arranged them all in two lines. There was an odd number of them, which meant that the two lines weren't identical; she frowned and rearranged them in a pyramid of sorts, which made her feel better.

The antique makeup case came next. It held only one thing: a pair of earrings that had been at the bottom of the trunk before Ahiru first emptied it out. Feeling it'd be safer to store them in the case, she'd rescued them and placed them carefully in one of the smaller compartments. They caught the light of her lamp now, delicate, dangly things made of some sort of shiny, translucent white material that had been made flat and shaped into little wings. Ahiru's own ears weren't pierced, so she couldn't wear them, but she almost wanted to consider it so she could wear things this pretty. She was also considering taking the makeup case and using it herself as Rue had encouraged her. She only wore a little makeup on special occasions, it was true, but it would still be nice to have something to keep it in, especially since it gave her that connection with her mother.

After that came two larger objects: an old book and a bottle of perfume safely ensconced in a box to protect any of the fragrant liquid within from damaging other things if it broke or leaked. Some sort of highly effective spell must have been laid on the perfume itself, for after all these years it still smelled good, a sweet, sort of floral scent that wasn't too heady. She wasn't sure if she would ever use any of it, though there _were_ special nights with Fakir to consider breaking it out for. Some of them, she acknowledged with a blush, were quite a ways away, but that just meant she had plenty of time to decide.

The book Ahiru had no intention of reading, and indeed, she hadn't even tried. This was because when she'd first lifted it out she'd discovered, by lucky chance, that it was filled to the brim at seemingly specific intervals with carefully pressed flowers. It must have been a special keepsake of her mother's for that very reason and so she wanted it to remain as it was, full of beautiful flowers that she would look at from time to time. She'd even gotten a few books on flowers from the library, so that she could write down what each one was and any lore or legend or secret meaning ascribed to it, and maybe imagine why her mother had chosen each particular bloom.

Ahiru spent some time admiring each flower before drawing out the last precious little possession: a thin stack of letters bound with a faded ribbon. Love letters, to be more specific: love letters from her father to her mother. The handwriting was difficult to read, and she couldn't tell what his name was at all from the way he'd signed it, but what she _could_ read she could glean a sense of the writer from. She had no way of knowing for sure the sincerity of the feelings expressed on these sheets of paper, of course, but they certainly did feel that way, and she wanted to believe they were, and so she chose to take the interpretation that her father had genuinely loved her mother. His language was a bit flowery in places, but also simple enough that he didn't come off as pretentious or over the top. There was a sweetness to the way he wrote to her that she thought - or hoped, anyway - would be difficult to fake. She couldn't help but wonder again what had happened to him, what had torn them apart. Reading the letters made it all feel sadder and more bittersweet, because it felt more real to her now. Yet it was also a comfort in its own way.

The really sad thing, though, was that her mother couldn't sit and reread these, to remember her father by. That thought struck Ahiru midway through rereading what she could of the letters, and she found herself remembering Valentine's Day. After they'd admitted their feelings for each other, Fakir had shyly confessed that he had hoped for just a moment back then, an all too brief moment of hope that was quickly squashed, that one of the letters Anne-Erina delivered to him had been from her. She'd thought about it a few times since then, but now, with these in front of her, she found herself thinking of it in quite a different light. It was terrifying to think of, but what if one day she lost him, or he lost her? They'd probably want keepsakes like this to hold onto in that event, to be able to reread each other's words of love and remember sweet days gone by. And even if that never happened, it'd still be nice to have them in their old age, to take out from a special drawer and relive the happy days of their youth and the first, heady stage of their romance. Besides _that,_ it would just feel nice to give one to Fakir, a little late maybe, but still welcome, no doubt.

Her course decided, Ahiru got up and located some paper and a pen. She labored for at least an hour over it before deciding it was done; she wasn't entirely satisfied with the end result, and in fact was squirming a bit internally, but she'd made the decision to write and deliver it and wasn't going to back down now. She carefully folded it up and eased her door open so she could pad down the hall to Fakir's room. She couldn't tell if he was awake or not, and hesitated only a minute or two before taking a deep breath and sliding the letter under the door, hoping it wouldn't be stepped on by anyone in the morning. She rushed away as soon as it vanished from sight, closing and locking her door behind her. She waited for her heart to stop racing so and then began to put her mother's belongings back in the trunk, scolding herself all the while for being so silly and nervous over giving a love letter to someone she already knew loved her in return.

It would've surprised her to know that Fakir was not, in fact, awake. The school term had already concluded for the summer, so going to bed early was not required every day anymore for a few months, but he'd nevertheless turned in at the usual time that evening. The reason for it was that he'd been up extremely late the previous night writing a story, and was therefore exhausted after a long day spent riding and practicing his sword and running around after Uzura. So when Ahiru slid the letter under his door, he was fast asleep in the darkness and quite insensible to the world around him. Her missive wouldn't be seen for several more hours.

To his credit, it was one of the first things he noticed upon waking and getting out of bed. Ahiru had actually managed to get it a decent distance into the room, and Fakir spied it halfway between his bed and the bathroom door. His curiosity was such that he delayed going into the bathroom to begin his brief morning grooming rituals, and instead made a beeline for the mysterious piece of paper on the floor.

His curiosity was rewarded. In spades.

_Hi, Fakir! Oh wait, that's a bad way to start a love letter, isn't it? Sorry! Um, anyway I wanted to send you a love letter cause I thought about how you wanted one on Valentine's Day and this is late but I thought you still might enjoy it, especially when we're all old and grey and we can reread stuff like this from each other. If you want to, anyway._

_I don't really know where to begin, but I guess I'll start by saying that I love you. I love you lots, Fakir. I think about you a lot and I'm so happy I get to be with you and that you love me too. You make me really happy. I get sad sometimes, though, when you say mean things about yourself, because I think you're really wonderful and I don't want you to be sad, I want you to be happy. I like seeing you happy cause you deserve it, and also you have a wonderful smile and even when you're not smiling I can still tell when something makes you happy cause I know you really well by now and it's great. I know we didn't get along at first when I came here but then we became friends and I got to see the real you, and the real you is so kind and sweet and I feel good when I'm around you. I'm so happy that now I get to hold your hand and kiss you a lot, that's so much fun! You've helped me be stronger and you're always there for me when I need you to be and that means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. I'm so glad I met you and that you're staying at the castle, it was really scary to think of you leaving and not seeing you for ages and ages. I'm so glad we found each other again, I love knowing you and having you in my life and being with you. I love you._

_Love, Ahiru_

Even if there'd been anyone else in the room, Fakir couldn't have spoken to them after reading Ahiru's letter. His throat had closed up and his eyes burned, his face hot and his heart swelling with overwhelming affection for the sweet girl who'd penned the letter held in his now-shaking hands. He reread it a couple more times before finally setting it down on his bedside table and wiping at his eyes as he headed into the bathroom. He ended up taking longer than he normally did to get ready, because he needed that time to compose himself before facing other people.

At breakfast, Fakir tried to catch Ahiru's eye in a way that would let her know that'd he found and read her letter, but he wasn't sure if it worked and he certainly didn't want to bring up such a thing in front of Rue. So he waited until Rue had left to go get fitted for a new dress for a ball the prince had invited her to. "Ahiru? Do you… want to go to the library with me?"

"Huh? The - the library?" Ahiru tilted her head slightly. "Um, okay." She swallowed nervously, more than once, as she followed him out towards the castle library. Had he found her letter? Was it okay? She began to spin various scenarios to herself about how this venture could've gone wrong: a maid thinking the letter was trash and throwing it away before he could read it, the letter getting hidden or stuck beneath furniture, _Fakir_ mistaking it for trash and throwing it away without reading it… all manner of things that could go wrong before her words were even read. And if he did read them, did he think they were stupid and silly sounding? Did he think _she_ was stupid and silly? She knew he didn't at all consider her to be unintelligent, but that was rational thought, and it was hard to maintain in the face of possible disaster.

She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice where he was leading her in the library until he stopped and pressed the little switch that opened the door to the hidden room. She didn't have time to really reflect on her surprise over it before he took her hand and gently tugged her along into the room; no sooner had he shut the door behind them than he pulled her into his arms and held her in a tight embrace. She instantly relaxed against him, but the thought that had been nagging at her still remained. "Fakir? Did… did you…"

"Yes." His voice was soft and thick with emotion. "I found your letter. Thank you."

"Oh! Oh, y-you're welcome, but… but also sorry." Ahiru bit her lip.

"Sorry?" She could plainly hear how incredulous he was. "What could you have to be sorry for?"

"Cause… cause I know it's not very good." Ahiru sighed. "It was weird and awkward, right? I mean, I know it's only the first time I've written something like that, but I wanted it to be good for you and it came out terrible, I didn't make it sound pretty at _all_ …"

"Idiot." Fakir exhaled sharply, making her cowlick flutter, and then pulled back to look down at her face. "It wasn't terrible at all, and you don't _need_ to make it sound flowery if that's not the way you naturally write." He touched her cheek. "It sounded like you. And that's the best way for it to sound. If… if you wrote it from your heart and you meant every word…" He could feel his face growing hot again, and his voice shook slightly. "Then… then that's not terrible at all. It's… wonderful."

"I did!" Her eyes went wide and she nodded vigorously. "I meant all of it! I wrote down all the stuff I could think of that didn't sound too silly and I tried to write well so it'd sound okay but also not fake, you know? I wanted to make it sound pretty, but I didn't want to make it sound like something out of a really bad book…"

"You did a great job." Fakir smiled softly at her. "Thank you, again. I'm… going to keep it, if you don't mind."

"Not at all!" Ahiru beamed up at him. "Th-that's what I was hoping you'd do! I wanted it to be good enough that you wouldn't want to throw it away…"

"I'd never throw away anything you gave me." His voice was low, but the color in his cheeks was high, and Ahiru couldn't help but giggle affectionately. Fakir was more open about his feelings for her now, but he still got so blushy and embarrassed sometimes at expressing certain things; she'd probably never say so out loud, but she agreed with Raetsel that he was adorable.

"Eeeee, I'm glad." Ahiru blushed in turn. "B-but um… anyway… n-now that we're here, you wanna…." She trailed off with a significant glance at the sofa, and tugged on his hand.

"Of - of course." Fakir felt like he must be red all over, but he smiled - rather goofily, though he didn't realize - and led Ahiru lead him over to the sofa. She snuggled close to him as they sat down, and was practically sitting on his lap when he leaned in and kissed her. Sneaking in here to make out had become a regular occurrence for them, though they tried to be careful not to let anyone guess that they did that during their library trips. It sometimes seemed like Rue had an idea, but if she did she'd chosen not to tease them about it for some reason only she knew (not that they weren't grateful for it).

Wanting to surprise her, Fakir said nothing of his intent to write a letter in return that very night. And besides, if he was unable to come up with anything right away, he didn't want to disappoint her and make her sad. Luckily, he was indeed able to write one for her, and though he too squirmed internally at it when he was done, delivered it nevertheless in the same way she had. He tossed and turned in bed afterwards, barely able to sleep for more than an hour or so at a time because some of the same disaster scenarios Ahiru had envisioned were dancing in his head along with fears that she would dislike his letter. He really didn't have anything to be afraid of, and if he'd been able to think calmly about it he might have realized that, but when it came to Ahiru and the way he felt about her it was hard not to be scared of what she'd think of what he offered her, even now that he knew she loved him.

Ahiru, for her part, was asleep when the letter was delivered, but woke up early enough that she too saw it first thing on her way to her bathroom. Her heart racing with excitement, she rushed into the bathroom and hurried through using it, and then ran back out to retrieve the letter from the floor. She sat down on her bed to read it, her legs swinging rapidly.

_Ahiru -_

_I don't quite know how to begin this right either, so I'll start as you did: by saying that I love you. I love you more than I can put into words. Every day I think about how lucky I am to know you, to have you in my life, that we found each other again, that you feel the same way about me that I do about you. I don't know how I came to be so fortunate as to have all that, but I will never take it for granted._

_I don't think I'm nearly as wonderful as you are, but you inspire me to try. You make me want to be better. You've spoken of how I make you feel stronger, but I want you to know that you do the same thing for me. You're so important to me in so many ways that I don't have room to list here._

_There's no one like you. You're amazing. I respect and admire you so much and I don't know why more people in your life up to now haven't. I could never leave the castle for years on end without seeing you - I doubt I could go even half a month without your smile, your voice, your hand in mine. So rest assured that that would never happen, even if I didn't want to be castle librarian. I want to stay by your side as long as you'll have me there. Because I love you._

_Love, Fakir_

Unlike Fakir, Ahiru didn't bother trying to compose herself after reading the letter. She reread it one more time and then set it down on her bedside table so that she could rush through getting dressed and run to his room. When he opened the door, she flung herself at him with happy tears still trailing down her face, and he pulled her into his room and closed the door so that she could babble happily at him and thank him and hug him for a good long while before they went to breakfast together.


End file.
